Book Notes: Meet detective Renee Ballard in ‘The Late Show’

Michael Connelly, well known for his Harry Bosch LAPD detective novels and the classy TV series, “Bosch,” has gifted readers with a likable female protagonist in his new book, “The Late Show.”

It should come as no surprise to Connelly fans that Detective Renee Ballard is smart, competent and uncompromising. Or that her employer, the LAPD, is hard, mean and punishing to those who make waves. These two forces of nature — LAPD and Ballard — roll over us like a thunderstorm and pages fly in a flurry. “The Late Show” is a first-rate page turner.

Ballard has been transferred to the night shift, or late show, after filing a harassment complaint against her boss, Lieutenant Robert Olivas, head of a special homicide team. Her case was dismissed because her partner at the time, Detective Ken Chastain, would not back up her allegations even though he and everyone else in the department knew that Olivas was guilty. Nonetheless, Olivas carries a big grudge and openly demeans and humiliates Ballard even though he’s no longer her boss. Ballard has almost no support within the department, in part because she’s female and no one wants to stick their neck out, in part because she’s driven. Few can match her prowess. The relentless taunting and disrespect are agonizing but Ballard makes a certain peace with it. She loves her work and she’s no quitter.

Working the night shift frustrates Ballard, however. She is not allowed to follow through on priority cases she responds to, even though her skills and smarts are superior to many of her colleagues. To stay involved in a case, she maneuvers and strategizes, sacrificing sleep during the day and arousing the ire of her colleagues.

For instance, when investigating what at first appears to be a routine theft of a credit card that no one else wants to bother with, Ballard tracks the likely thief and ties the stolen guns to a mass shooting. The guns implicate someone from LAPD and leave Ballard extremely vulnerable. In another instance of clever sleuthing, she scopes out a suspect’s house under the guise of investigating a neighborhood burglary, arousing department suspicions about her methods. Never shy about risk, she hacks into her former partner’s computer to get information she needs to proceed with her investigation into a mass shooting at a bar — knowing she is likely to be found out. Her Bosch-like rogue behaviors evoke a familiar, edgy and delicious tension.

Of the three cases Ballard works on in “The Late Show,” the credit card theft and the bar shooting eventually overlap. At the bar, an unidentified man shoots the three men he’s seated with as well as two peripheral witnesses. Later, a detective is found shot in his car in what Ballard realizes is a related killing.

Ballard is spread thin, investigating, as well, the brutal beating and prolonged torture of Ramona, a transgender woman. The sadistic, psychopathic suspect finds out Ballard is on to him and kidnaps her and another woman, both of whom he plans to kill. But what Ballard lacks in heft she makes up for in skill and persistence. Like the best detectives, she has superhuman stamina and a mind that won’t rest. She figures out how to free herself and in a fight for her and the other hostage’s life, she kills her abductor with a makeshift weapon — provoking more departmental wrath and endangering her future with LAPD.

What feeds Ballard is her love of her work, her bond with the sea and the relationship she has with her rescue dog, Lola. As a child, she idolized her father, a legendary surfer in Hawaii who disappeared in a wave while she watched, helpless and frantic, at the age of 14. She continued to live, as they had, on the beach for a year until her grandmother arrived from Ventura, in Southern California, to bring her to the mainland and care for her.

Ballard began her professional life as a newspaper crime reporter (as Connelly has) who quickly realized she needed to be on the other side of the story. She wanted to solve crimes and help people. During her work week, Ballard often sleeps in a tent on Venice Beach during the day, relying on Lola and a friendly lifeguard to keep an eye out for her. To build upper body strength, she paddles a surfboard back and forth along the coast, exhausting herself and chasing off demons. While working, she pays someone to watch her dog. When she takes a rare day off, she and Lola go home to her grandmother’s in Ventura.

Connelly’s Harry Bosch is a beloved character, now portrayed by Titus Welliver in a popular Amazon series. Ballard has the potential to be embraced in similar ways. Like Bosch, she’s had a difficult past. Outsider status creates frictions that allow for identification and deeper connections with readers. And the strong work ethic, always challenged by department animosity, is the stuff of Connelly’s genius.

When Ballard figures out that she has identified Ramona’s attacker, Connelly writes: “She believed he was her man, and there was nothing quite like that moment of knowing. It was the Holy Grail of detective work. It had nothing to do with evidence or legal procedure or probable cause. It was just knowing it in your gut. Nothing in her life beat it. It had been a long time coming to her on the late show but now she felt it and she knew deep down it was the reason she would never quit, no matter where they put her or what they said about her.”

Connelly’s ever-present tension and his tight, satisfying plotting in “The Late Show” proves, once again, why he’s sustained his long career as a bestselling detective novelist. The twists and curveballs in “Late show” position this venerable writer with 29 previous novels at the top of his game.

— Rae Padilla Francoeur is a freelance journalist and author. She can be reached at rae@raefrancoeur.com.